


The Elf-Blooded

by Empress_Of_Trash (JaQueen)



Series: Dragon Girls & Boy & Other [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: City Elf Culture and Customs, F/F, F/M, M/M, Modern Character in Thedas, Modern Character reborn in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 16:12:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaQueen/pseuds/Empress_Of_Trash
Summary: Rosala Leoni has always been different for two reasons. One, she’s an elf-blooded human growing up in Denerim’s Alienage and two, she’s long been haunted by dreams that can’t be real. But when her cousin Kallian is chosen she realizes that the knowledge she’s always had. The knowledge she never allowed to be spoken is real and it could change the world. The Warden’s story is starting, but Rosala is only a child and can only watch helpless as her cousin goes unprepared. But she won’t always be. Rosala knows much of what is to come and she'll do what she can to change it.





	The Elf-Blooded

From the Journal of 

Iveanni Leoni

Resident of the Alienage, 

Of Denerim, Capital of Ferelden

 

2 Guardian, 9:18

 

The Gods and Maker know I have never been a faithful woman. I saw too much during the Rebellion and in a life spent in an Alienage to believe they look out for their children. I have not the strength for such conviction like Emith does. But tonight I prayed long and hard to all who would hear. 

 

To Andraste in the hopes she would whisper in the Maker’s ear. To all the Elven gods and goddesses. I even prayed to Fen’Harel. Something that would have horrified the Sabrae no doubt. He is the only god the Dalish think still live amongst us, even if it is causing mischief. I think from the stories Galifalon told me that a trickster god would like my little Fenlin. She is a trickster after his heart no doubt and even he is known to favor those who cause mischief. Mayhaps he would not like to see her from the world.

 

I even considered praying to the Old Gods, but I feared that they, above all others, would actually hear me. 

 

My daughter has magic. And I prayed all night I was wrong or the gods would take it from her. Another thing to horrify the Sabrae who value magic above all other skills. Though it would require them to look past my daughter’s flat ears. 

 

Magic is not a gift here. Not a gift in Denerim with the templars always on the lookout and ready to snatch a child from their mother’s arms. 

 

I had seen it happen with Leana. Alim had barely known his own name when they grabbed him from her in the market when he made the flowers dance from his mother’s basket. 

 

It was the most innocent form of magic I’d ever seen and beautiful until the babe started crying and Leana screaming as her husband held her back and the templars dragged the boy away. She’d never recovered. We all knew it was his loss that killed her in the end.

 

I can not let them take my girl. My sweet, too clever girl. My Rosala’s magic is not so innocent as dancing flowers. Rosa dreams of blood and death and wakes up crying and scared. 

 

They are visions. True visions. I know that now. I was a fool who thought they were only childish nightmares when she first came to me. The gods know that a child of the alienage has much to create nightmares from. 

 

I should have known though. My girl was not one to come to me with her frights, too brave and prideful by far. It was my own foolish hope for peace that made me forget what I knew of more quiet magics. 

 

Adaia had told me much of the land her grandmother had originated from. I had never seen Rivian, but I have heard of the seers that lived there. Women who conversed with spirits and saw the future. 

 

Perhaps it was just I did not want to believe. Rosala’s nightmares were a terrible things. She spoke of war and devastation, a dark power rising and a city burning. I know she did not tell me everything either. She stopped herself looking up at me with her pale small face and went quiet.

 

The worst part was that if I had listened to her then this never would have happened. My best friend would not be dead and my brother and niece would not be curled in my house suffering and at a loss. It was the last dreadful thing I had gotten out of my daughter from her nightmares.

 

“Auntie is going to die. A human is going to hurt her, ‘cause he thinks she’s trouble.” Rosala had told me her eyes, those black eyes things looked up at me as she spoke and put me in mind of her father. They had the same solemn old eyes all at once.

 

And she had his magic. I should have known she would. Rosala had always been different from the moment she was born. 

 

But I had left it, throwing off my unease and tucking my child back into bed with the quiet reassurance that nothing could be wrong. I was a liar and a fool and I killed the my brother’s heart.

 

I have prayed all I can and now I must plan. I still have friends who may help. The Collective knows I will not turn on them and I know too much for them to turn on me. I may use all my favors but it will be worth it. Someone will come. They have to.

 

 

From the Journal of

The Apostate, Veren,

Of the Mage Collective

 

_ Justinian 9, 9:18 _

_ Observations, Day 15:  _

 

_ The girl is not a mage. Or rather she is like no mage I’ve ever seen.  _

 

_ Any mention of her supposed visions leads to silence and distrust. She knows more than she lets on. She knows I’m a mage as surely as I know the Fade. I spent the night in Serah Leoni’s home and I felt her connect with the Fade in her sleep. I followed her in with some difficulty, pleased that I’d thought to bring extra lyrium with me.  _

 

_ I expected a demon tempting her instead I find a determined six year old chattering at a Spirit of Knowledge, who was conversing with her with an equal fascination. They were discussing, of all things, soap recipes. I had never seen such a powerful spirit so casually arriving and judging by their interactions theirs was a long acquaintance.  _

 

_ It noticed me first, bringing the child’s attention to me and her displeasure. She excused herself from her friend only to transport me far from where she had been lingering into a plain room most unlike the brimming library that had been constructed for Knowledge. She scolded me for coming into her dream “without so much a by you leave” and I was summarily thrown out. By a child, an untrained child.  _

 

_ I awoke with a searing headache that still hasn’t completely faded, but I felt more energetic about this mission than I had in the beginning. _

 

_ I realize I am perhaps unnaturally excited about this discovery, but after two weeks trying to figure out the girl I now understand. The girl is not the kind to find her magic in fire or other small destructions like most children or even in startling healed wounds like others. No the child is the rarest of all. _

 

_ A Dreamer. I had thought they were myths and I know even the Imperium has no records of one existing for a millenia. And now to find one, alone and powerful enough to carelessly toss me from the Fade in an Alienage in Denerim of all places. It boggles the mind. _

 

_ Perhaps she is truly a seer as her mother suspects, but I know she is definitely a powerful and dangerous creature. The Dreamers of old were said to be able to kill men in their sleep and control the Fade in ways mages can only dream of. I must find a way to train this girl. _

 

_ There is so much to learn from her and much to teach. She must have a way to mentally protect herself before she faces her first demon. If someone like her were to fall it would be devastating to all those around her. _

 

 

 

 

From the Journal of,

Kallian Tabris,

Resident of the Alienage

Of Denerim, Capital of Ferelden

 

9:30, Wintersend

 

Father finally told me my engagement had been settled today. It had been coming for awhile now, he doesn’t think I noticed his quiet talks with the Hahren and the matchmaker, but I had. They’ve agreed to the initial talks and I will like find myself an adult and wife the Summerday of this year. It cheered most of the family, weddings were always a happy time. Aunt Iveanni especially seemed pleased by it and began talking happily about the party. Everyone knows she is not yet over not being able to attend Siona’s wedding. I’m happy to give her mine, even if I do not feel as confident as Shianni about my upcoming union.

 

The only one more displeased than I by the news was Rosala. She went quiet and started crying, running from the table. When she was finally brought back hours later by Valendrian, she claimed she didn’t want me to leave. Everyone knew Siona’s leaving had bruised her heart as much as her mother’s, but I saw the lie.

 

I suspect my aunt did as well by the way her hands tightened and her eyes worried.

 

Rosala has seen something and she does not say what. Not yet. What worries me is not that she looks at me as if I will disappear, but that she stares at Shianni in the same shaky terrified way she’d followed my mother before she died. Even worse she has a determined look on her face that does not bode well. Something bad is coming and whatever it is, it is coming for Shianni and I on my wedding day.

 

I worry that my little cousin is determined to get between it and I and that she will not survive. I know my father will hate it, but I got mother’s daggers down tonight. I will begin training myself with them again. I am two years out of practice and Rosala makes me believe it will be needed. What’s more I will be taking her tomorrow afternoon. 

 

I will offer to watch her and the twins, Aunt Iveanni is too busy with her current projects to reject help. I will take them to the same quiet place Mae took me and while I let the children play I will begin teaching her the same way I was taught. I may not have her gifts, but my own skills have there uses and any edge can be the difference between life and death. Mae taught me that much before she died.


End file.
